Hair Ties and Dance Recitals
by Scarlett's Tara
Summary: Sugar-from-the-future fluff. A short little story with baby Sugar and her moms and then Sugar Motta with the Troubletones. Now with part 2: Brittana and their almost-taxi-baby. And lastly, part 3: second honeymoon fun!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Inspiration struck and I quick wrote this little ficlet. It's all fluff but I hope you enjoy the cute!**

"Mama! Ow!" the four year shrieked, jerking her head out of her mother's grip. The action caused her to scream again, tears filling her eyes.

"Sugar," Santana said carefully, aware that her daughter was moments away from what could be a full blown tantrum. "You have to let me finish your hair so it looks pretty for your dance show."

The little girl stomped her foot, a scowl taking over her face. "No! Stop pulling my hair."

"I'm not pulling your hair," Santana reasoned. "Sit back down so I can finish." She gently guided Sugar back to the kitchen chair and tried to piece out the strands of the braid she had been working on.

"Owww!" Sugar howled the moment Santana tugged her hair in the slightest. She tried to squirm away, crying, "Mama, you're hurting my head."

Santana let out an exasperated sigh, losing the placement of the slippery brown strands with her daughter's movements. "It won't hurt if you sit still!"

"No!" Sugar stood up from the chair away. "Stop! I want my hair like this." She gestured to the half-finished braid that was already starting to fall out.

"You can't dance if your hair is in your face," Santana argued, her point proven as not quiet grown out bangs slid over Sugar's eyes.

"Yes I can!" Sugar glared up at her mother.

"What is going on in here?" Brittany asked as she entered the kitchen.

"Mommy!" Sugar cried, darting over to wrap her arms around Brittany's hips. She tilted her neck backwards, straining to see past a swollen stomach, and met her mom's gaze with a pathetic pout. "Mama's pulling my hair."

"Britt, I told you to take a nap," Santana sighed. "You need rest if you're really going to go to this show." Her tone made it clear that she didn't think a preschool dance recital was the best activity for her wife that evening.

"I'm going, San." She left no room for argument, as she bent down slightly to look at Sugar. "I would never miss seeing our baby dance."

Sugar grinned up at her mom. "I'm going to be awesome."

"Of course you are!" Brittany stroked her cheek affectionately. "But you have to let your mama fix your hair first."

Her little head shook back and forth, causing even more strands to fly out of her destroyed braid. "No, I want you to do it, Mommy."

Brittany's eyes widened with an expression of mock-surprise. "Why? Your mama's the best hair-braider in the whole world."

"Really?" Sugar looked doubtful, but intrigued.

"Totally." Blue eyes glanced at Santana with a sparkle. "She used to do my hair before all my dance competitions."

"That part's true at least," Santana muttered.

"Want to see her do my hair first?" Brittany suggested.

Sugar nodded enthusiastically, and Santana glanced at the clock on the stove, trying to decide if they had time to put on this little show and still have Sugar to the auditorium on time. It seemed Brittany had already made up her mind as she moved toward the chair that Sugar had vacated, her nine-months-pregnant stomach transforming her usually graceful movements into something that most closely resembled a waddle.

"Okay," Santana agreed, deciding they had time. "Watch how Mommy stays nice and still so that I don't pull her hair."

Brittany turned in her seat with a wicked smirk. "Sometimes you pull my hair." Her voice was so quiet that Santana practically had to read her lips to figure out what say was saying.

"Oh hush." Santana swatted at her shoulder, as a flush warmed her cheeks just slightly.

Gentle hands gathered loose strands of blonde hair as Sugar crowded close, squeezing onto what remained of Brittany's lap to watch. Santana teased her fingers through her wife's hair, working out the few tangles as she divided it into three parts near the headline. Brittany's hair lacked the baby-softness of Sugar's, but it had taken on a silky shine in her pregnancy and felt thick in Santana's grip. Muscle memory took over as she worked it into an even plait. It was looser than the ones she used to weave for dance competitions, letting the curves of Brittany's face keep their softness.

"There," Santana announced when she finished, twisting a hair tie around the end, giving the braid an affectionate tug and ghosting her fingers over the wisps of hair on Brittany's bare neck.

"Wow!" Sugar exclaimed, scrambling off of Brittany to see the view from behind. Santana caught her under the arms and boosted her up so she could get a better look. She patted blonde hair with pudgy fingers. "You did really good, Mama."

"Ready to let me do yours?" Santana asked.

"Yes!" Sugar squealed. "I'll be so still this time!"

Santana dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "I know, baby girl. Let's get you ready."

* * *

"Do you need help with that?"

Sugar glanced into the mirror to see her mother – no, she corrected herself, Santana – standing behind her with a doubtful expression on her face.

Though desperate for attention from one of the people she loved most in the world, Sugar kept up her Motta-façade with an aloof, "No thanks, I've got this."

To her surprise, Santana ignored her and came up close, batting her hands away from where they had been attempting to get her hair to cooperate for their Troubletones performance. Sugar let her arms fall heavily onto her lap, fingers tingling from working for too long behind her head.

Sure fingers smoothed through her hair as they had hundreds of times before. Though only in Sugar's reality; for Santana, those moments hadn't happened yet. Instead of getting boggled by the complexities of time-travel, Sugar let herself relax under the soothing touch that reminded her of dance recitals and early mornings getting ready for school.

Sugar smirked inwardly at the fact that she found the memories comforting. More often than not, there had been yelling and arguments that accompanied any hairstyling. Sugar had never been given reason to doubt her mother's love, but their personalities were both so strong and so similar that the fights had been nearly outside their control.

"You're good at this," Sugar observed as Santana managed to get her hair to lay smooth, without the lumps that had resulted when Sugar had tried.

Santana shrugged, and reached for the hairspray. Sugar leaned over to help, but Santana tugged lightly with the hand still in her hair.

"Don't move," she scolded. "You'll mess it up."

Sugar couldn't stop the grin that took over her face at that comment. It was like she was four years old again, her mother trying to get her ready for her first dance show. She remembered that evening vividly, probably because of the panic that had struck her when she finished dancing and neither of her moms had been there to congratulate her. Instead, her Aunt Rachel had found her and informed her that her new baby brother was waiting at the hospital. Years later, she had finally heard the story of how he had nearly been born in a cab since her mom had refused to admit she was in labor until Sugar had finished dancing.

"How's that?" Santana asked after caking on so much hairspray that Sugar was sure her hair would crack if she touched it.

"I look awesome," Sugar declared confidently.

Santana scoffed. "Not as awesome as me." She preened in the mirror, pressing her breasts together and tugging on her dress until her cleavage popped.

"You're nervous," Sugar stated bluntly, recognizing the mannerisms immediately.

"I am not!" Santana shot back.

"You are," Sugar countered. "And I hope you know showing off your boobs won't make you sing any better."

Sugar knew she had won when the tan complexion wasn't enough to hid reddening cheeks. Maybe it was unfair to use the advantage of living with someone for sixteen years in a reality that they didn't remember, but Sugar couldn't bring herself to care when Santana turned and sat down on the vanity table.

"I'm nervous," Santana admitted quietly. "There's a lot of pressure not to mess this up. I bitched for so long about not getting solos, and now I have to prove that I deserved them."

It was jarring to see the teenage-version of her mother so open and honest. Sugar had gotten used to the standoffishness, and this confession reminded her more of the adult that Santana would one day become.

"You definitely deserved them," Sugar assured her.

"Do you think so?" Santana was quiet, vulnerable.

"Yes. Your voice is amazing, Ma – ma'am." She corrected her slipup awkwardly.

Santana didn't seem to notice, and continued with, "I hope so. I just feel - "

Sugar never got to find other what Santana felt because at that moment Brittany came running over to them, and the entirety of Santana's attention was diverted. Brittany's hair and makeup was perfect, but she was still in her street clothes.

The reason was explained when she exclaimed, "I can't find my dress, San."

"What?" Santana's brow furrowed and she slipped off the vanity table to go over to Brittany, fingers lightly encircling her upper arm. Her moms had been like that as long as Sugar could remember, with the constant need to be touching each other in some way. "How did you lose your dress, Britt?" Her voice was not accusatory, just gentle with a genuine desire to understand.

"I don't know!" Brittany cried. "I had it home to make sure I could dance in it, but I know I put it back in my bag. I think Tubbs might have taken it out – he was always loyal to the New Directions."

"Hey, relax," Santana said, rubbing down Brittany's arm and taking her hand. "I'll help you look for it."

They walked away together, hand-in-hand, without a backwards glance at Sugar. She knew they weren't her moms yet, but it hurt to see them so wrapped up in each other that they ignored her completely. It wasn't something that she had ever experienced growing up and it made her ache to return home.

She picked at her nails for a few minutes, wondering if everything would be okay if she left now. Her moms needed to get together if she was to ever exist, but she did exist so clearly they had. But maybe it was only because of something she had done on this trip through time and maybe she hadn't done it yet.

The complexities of time-travel were quickly giving her a migraine. She didn't understand it, despite carefully hanging on to every explanation that Brittany had ever given her. Except, of course, the lecture about how messing with the timeline could be very dangerous and that she wasn't ever to try it alone. Too late for that.

Her thought were interrupted as Shelby clapped her hands, urging them all to gather round. "We're on in five, ladies."

"Where are Brittany and Santana?" Mercedes questioned, looking more annoyed than concerned by their absence.

She was answered as the girls in question stumbled around the corner. Brittany had found her dress and all four of their hands were somehow entwined as they giggled, their heads close together.

Sugar looked at them, so happy and clearly in love, and her answer was obvious: Her moms would be okay. There wasn't anything that she had to do to make sure they ended up together.

It was fate.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I was going to leave this as a oneshot, but then I really wanted to write the story of how they almost had a baby in a taxi. So here is the result. Enjoy! And there also may be a part 3 to this little universe so watch out for that in the next couple weeks.**

"She is so much better than the rest of them," Santana gloated in a whisper, leaning close to watch their daughter dance through the video that Brittany was recording on her phone. Sugar confidently went through the steps of the simple choreography, her hair secure in the tight braid Santana had eventually managed to complete.

"Santana, they're _four_. Be nice," Brittany murmured back, but her smile gave away the fact that she agreed.

Santana grinned back, leaning into Brittany's space to brush a kiss onto her cheek before returning her attention to the stage.

When the performance finished, Santana clapped louder than anyone else.

"My kid is amazing." She turned to Rachel who was sitting on her other side. "She's going to be a bigger star than you, Berry."

Rachel continued to clap politely. "Yes, she did very well. I look forward to mentoring her towards stardom."

"Santana," Brittany interrupted. "I think we should go now."

Confused, Santana frowned. "Babe, the next group is dancing now." She gestured to where the five and six year olds were filing onto the stage. "Sugar will be with her class until the show is over."

"San, I've been having contractions for the past three hours," Brittany clarified. "I think we should go to the hospital."

"What?!" Santana screeched, just as the audience started to quiet in anticipation of the next performance. She ignored the angry glares coming from the parents around them as she leaped out of her seat. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was still far too loud as she urged Brittany out of her seat and into the aisle.

"Shh," Brittany hushed her, accepting Santana's hand to stand.

Panic bubbled over in Santana. "We don't have any of our things. And what about Sugar?"

Music filled the auditorium and the little girls on stage started their rudimentary tap-dance routine.

Rachel stood from her seat and joined them to loudly whisper, "I'll find Sugar after the show. And I can text Kurt and have him bring over whatever you need. He still has a key."

"Okay," Santana agreed, the calmness of the women surrounding her doing nothing to quell her panic. "Fine, but we need to go. Now. God, do you think we'll be able to get a cab?"

"Yes," Brittany assured her. "Come on."

Brittany tugged her arm and pulled her up the aisle as Rachel sat back down. Santana could feel icy stares from the audience members who had their child's dance show interrupted by their disruptive scene. She couldn't find it in her to be bothered, the whole of her attention focused on Brittany who was walking out of the venue like this was nothing more than an untimely trip to the bathroom.

As soon as they stepped out into the hallway, Santana rounded on her wife.

"How could you not tell me you were in labor?" she exclaimed.

Brittany shrugged, both hands wrapping around the bottom of her stomach. "I wanted to see our baby dance. I knew you wouldn't let me go if I told you."

"Fuck, no, I wouldn't have," Santana agreed, her hands flitting protectively across Brittany's shoulders, down her arms, and landing on her stomach.

"Which is silly," Brittany pointed out. "It's going to be a while before the baby is born. My water hasn't even broken yet."

"How did I not notice?" Santana asked quietly, and it was more a statement of her perceived inadequacies than an actual question.

"Honey, it's okay," Brittany murmured. "There was a lot going on, plus I was _trying _to hide it from you."

With a sigh, Santana slid her hands from the swell that protected their baby around to Brittany's back, pressing their cheeks together as she hugged her as close as possible. "Come on, let's get you to the hospital."

She kept Brittany close as they walked out of the building, an arm tight around her waist. From that position, she could feel Brittany's muscle tighten in a slight wince as another contraction hit her. She stopped walking just inside the door, holding Brittany until it passed, frowning in sympathy at the obvious pain on her wife's face.

"I can't believe you hid this," Santana muttered, gently brushing back a strand of blonde that had escaped the braid.

"It doesn't hurt much," Brittany bluffed.

Santana rolled her eyes and didn't respond, instead carefully helping Brittany down the stairs towards the street.

She was trying to hail a cab when Brittany winced again, both hands flying to her stomach as she bent forward.

"Brittany!" Santana cried, her hands dropping to often support. "How close together are those happening?"

Instead of a real answer, Brittany muttered, "Shit," her face dropping to look at the little puddle that appeared between her legs on the concrete. She was wearing a skirt and the fluid easily soaked through her underwear, sticking to her inner thighs uncomfortably and dripping onto the sidewalk.

"Oh my god!" Santana cried. "We have to get a cab like now."

Santana reached her arm out desperately towards the street. They were lucky that they have hit the slight lull when it was too late for dinner but too early to go out, and a vacant cab appeared in the next wave of traffic. Santana was nearly jumping to get the driver's attention, her arm flailing, looking more like a tourist than someone who had been living in New York for the last ten years.

As soon as the cab pulled over, Santana flung open the back door. She leaned her head in, and sized up the driver. He looked at her with a bored expression, seemly unintimidated by her glare.

"Can you drive fast?" she asked. "Cause she's about to have a baby."

The driver shrugged. "I'll try."

Unsatisfied, but without other options, Santana accepted that answer and turned to help Brittany into the car. She followed quickly behind her, nearly slamming her head into the door in her rush to get into the backseat.

"How fast can you get us to Beth Israel?" Santana asked.

"Twenty minutes? Maybe thirty if we hit traffic," he guessed.

"Twenty minutes!" Santana exclaimed. "You think that's fast?"

He gave her the same disinterested expression. "Would you like to find another cab?"

Her retort was cut off as Brittany grabbed her arm, squeezing hard as she was hit with another contraction. Knowing that it was not in their best interest to pick a fight, Santana sighed and answered, "Just get us there as fast as you can."

As they pulled into traffic, Santana turned her attention to Brittany, lacing their fingers together so that Brittany would have something to hold onto as the contractions hit her.

"Babe, these are awfully close together," she murmured in concern, not enjoying watching Brittany in pain, whatever the reason.

"Sorry I didn't tell you," Brittany sniffed.

Santana shook her head. "It's okay, Britt. I don't like that you were in pain and I didn't know, but really, I get it."

Brittany smiled a little. "It was hard to hide it from you. But so worth it. Sugar was - "

She was cut off by another contraction, her hand gripping tightly onto Santana's.

"Sugar did a great job tonight," Santana said, picking up the conversation and talking just to distract Brittany from the pain. "I'm glad we got to see her."

"Even though we might have a taxi-baby?" Brittany asked, smirking a little.

"We're not going to have a taxi-baby," Santana assured her, feeling calmer now that they were on the way to the hospital and she was more in control of the situation.

Fifteen minutes later though, Santana was not so sure. They were creeping along in traffic and pained moans kept slipping through Brittany's lips. Feeling entirely helpless, Santana alternated between rubbing her back and stroking her hair.

"You're doing great, baby," she murmured, pressing her lips against Brittany's temple. "We're almost there."

Brittany shook her head and Santana could see the tears clouding blue eyes. "It feels really close. I'm so sorry." The sentence ended on a hiccup and a sob as another contraction came and pulled the tears from Brittany's eyes.

"Shh," Santana soothed, pulling Brittany a little closer. Shifting her weight forward, she addressed the driver. "How much further?"

He met her gaze through the rearview mirror. "Maybe fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes?" she cried. "Are you kidding me? She can't wait that long!"

The driver gestured to the traffic in front of them. "What do you suggest I do?"

Anger boiled over. "Drive faster! Honk your horn, find another road, go on the sidewalk. I don't care!"

"Santana," Brittany moaned. "That's not helping."

Santana gave the driver one more glare, before turning back to Brittany. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you." She wiped tears off pale cheeks and kissed her nose.

A couple of blocks later the traffic finally started to clear and within a few minutes they were screeching into the emergency room drop-off lane. Their driver had finally sped up when Brittany started moaning about wanting to push and Santana had pointed out to him what childbirth in the backseat might do to the already faded and worn upholstery.

Throwing a few twenties at the driver without bothering to count, Santana flung open the door and jumped out.

"Someone get me a wheelchair!" she shouted to the general vicinity. The few people standing around smoking watched her curiously, but no one made a move to help. "Some fucking hospital," Santana muttered, reaching into the backseat to help Brittany out.

Brittany clung to her weakly and Santana edged them towards the door. They only made it a few steps before Brittany stopped them to pant her way through another contraction.

"The baby wants to get out, San," Brittany sobbed.

Santana's hand reached between Brittany's legs, feeling to reassure herself that their baby's head was not dangling above the concrete.

"What are you doing?" Brittany cried, batting at her hand. "Not the time for that."

Santana rolled her eyes, but didn't move her hand. "Making sure our baby doesn't start its life with a head injury."

"The baby won't just fall - " Another contraction hit and Brittany changed her mind. "Make sure our baby doesn't fall out!"

They inched forward through the doorway, Santana still waiting to catch the baby on the off chance that it did indeed come falling out. In between the two sets of sliding doors was a waiting bay of wheelchairs and Santana deposited Brittany into the nearest one, kicking off the brakes and pushing her inside at practically a sprint.

Shoving her way to the front of the line at the check-in desk, her hands tightly gripping the wheelchair, Santana informed the nurse, "She is having a baby _right _now."

The nurse gave Brittany a cursory glance over the top of her desk, before answering, "We'll get you up to labor and delivery as soon as possible. Please take a seat over there."

"No!" Santana had reached her breaking point and this nurse was in the unfortunate position of being at the receiving end. "I have had enough bullshit this evening. We are _not _having this baby in the waiting room. She needs a bed and a doctor this minute! So you get me one or I'll - "

Her threat was interrupted as the nurse asked, "Do I need to call security, ma'am?"

"I don't need fucking security, I need a doctor. I demand one and if we are not seen right now I will sue this hospital. I will sue you for…" Santana paused, remembering something that her father had mentioned before. "She's having chest pain!" Santana announced with triumph. "Right, babe?"

"Noooo," Brittany moaned. "But I need to push now."

That seemed to get the nurse's attention and ten minutes later Santana's was proven correct when Brittany delivered their 7 lb 10 oz son in the emergency room, fortunately on a bed and with a doctor present.

* * *

"Oh my god, Britt, he is so perfect," Santana sighed for the hundredth time once things had settled down and Brittany and the baby had both been cleaned up and transferred to the maternity ward.

Brittany gave a sleepy sigh of agreement, smiling down at the newborn that Santana had hardly let out of her arms since his birth.

"Do I ever get to hold him?" Brittany teased.

Santana felt a twinge of guilt as she realized how much she had been monopolizing the baby. "Of course you do. Here."

Brittany wouldn't take him. "I was teasing, Santana. I got to hold him for nine months; your turn now. Just come closer so I can see him better."

Careful not to jolt the baby, Santana kicked off her shoes and swung her legs fully into the bed so she could recline beside Brittany, their bodies easily accommodating to the narrow space. She shifted their son in her arms so his head was close to Brittany and they could both admire him.

"I can't believe we did this again," Santana marveled. "Made another perfect little person."

"Yeah, we're pretty awesome," Brittany agreed. "And he kind of looks like Sugar, don't you think?"

Santana studied the baby. His bald head was covered by a hat and his eyes were a deep blue color that promised to change as he got older. He had Brittany's nose and chin, and she could see how he might one day look like his sister. "We did use the same donor," Santana pointed out.

"It worked out the first time."

"Speaking of…" Santana nodded her head towards the doorway where Rachel was standing, an excited Sugar bouncing in her arms. She gestured at them to come in.

"Moms!" Sugar squealed, squirming to be put down. "I have a brother?"

Santana put her finger to her lips. "You have to be quiet around him, though."

Rachel carried Sugar over to the bed so they could both look down at the new baby.

"This is Matthew," Brittany told them, moving the blanket he was wrapped in so they could see him more clearly.

"Aw, he's adorable," Rachel cooed.

"Wow!" Sugar exclaimed, nearly leaping out of Rachel's arms and climbing up the bed to squirm her little body in between her mothers. She gave the baby an appraising look. "He's a little wrinkled," she quickly decided.

"You did too, when you were a baby," Santana informed her.

Sugar crinkled her nose. "I did not! I wasn't wrinkly, was I, mommy?" She looked at Brittany for reassurance.

Brittany gave her a sympathetic smile. "Mama's right, sweetie."

Sugar frowned as she processed that information.

"But we thought you were the cutest," Brittany reassured her.

Apparently past the subject of wrinkly babies, Sugar asked, "Can I hold my brother?"

"If you can get Mama to share." Brittany gave Santana a teasing smile.

"Mean," Santana mouthed to Brittany over Sugar's head. "Of course you can hold him, Sugar."

Santana helped settle the baby across Sugar's lap and Brittany reached over to keep his neck supported.

Sugar was excited about holding her brother for approximately thirty seconds, after which she informed them, "He's a little boring," and passed the baby back to her mom.

After that, Santana reluctantly let Rachel hold the new baby also before they kissed Sugar goodbye and sent her off for what would likely be some kind of sing-along sleepover. Brittany had passed out in exhaustion as soon as the company left. Santana remained awake with a calm, but very awake baby, his eyes shining in the semi-darkness of the room.

"You are a lucky little guy," she informed him after a few minutes of silent admiration. "You're in the Lopez-Pierce family so that makes you automatically awesome. You and your sister are going to have so much fun when you get a little bigger. And guess what, you mommy is…" Santana trailed off as she thought about every word that could be used to describe Brittany. "She's the awesomest," she finally decided. "The awesomest mommy in the whole world."

Santana jumped when Brittany's voice broke through the darkness.

"But your mama's the_ most_ awesomest."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Here is the last anticipated part of this little verse. I suppose it really could be a stand-alone, but the Santana and Britt from the first parts of the fic are the ones I had in my head for this little adventure. And so the short oneshot now has three parts.**

**Note the rating change ;)  
**

**Enjoy!**

"Ugh, this sucks," Santana groaned, dropping her purse and collapsing backwards onto the bed.

"They're dropping your bag off here tomorrow morning," Brittany reasoned. "It's not that bad."

"They better because I am not letting anyone see me in these clothes." Santana gestured to her current outfit, rumpled from the hassles of hours of travel, a missed connection, and a lost suitcase.

"I'm sure it'll be here," Brittany said confidently, leaning down to dig through her own bag that had somehow made it onto the plane while Santana's remained in Atlanta.

Santana sighed and fished for her phone, frowning as she tried to get it to connect to the hotel's wifi. This trip had been something she had been willing to skip, but Brittany had been so excited when they had gotten the invitation for her cousin's wedding in Puerto Rico. Santana had always found the cousin pretentious; her opinion only confirmed when she decided to marry her very white boyfriend in the "land of their ancestors." But Brittany had pouted and Santana had been helpless to refuse.

"_Santana, it'll be so fun! I've never been out of the country before."_

_Not looking up from soothing their fussy newborn, Santana responded, "It's just not a good time. We have two babies."_

"_Mattie-Motta will be bigger by then," Brittany cooed to the baby. "My mom can watch them."_

_Santana automatically held Matthew a little closer. "You want to leave our babies?!"_

"_Just for a couple days. It'll be like a second honeymoon." Brittany peered at her from beneath fluttering eyelashes. "Our first was awesome, but we didn't even leave the room."_

"_I remember leaving once."_

"_Yeah and that went well," Brittany pointed out, taking the snoozing baby from Santana's arms._

_Santana smirked at the memory. They had planned on skipping the honeymoon in order to save money for a down payment on a New York apartment, but her father had surprised them at the last minute with tickets to Vegas and a promise to cover any expenses. They had spent three clothing-free days in their fancy hotel room ordering room service until Brittany had insisted they go out at least once before leaving. Luckily their scandalously short dresses had gotten them into the club for free because Santana had been able to handle Brittany's ass grinding up and down her body for about ten minutes before she had dragged her new wife into a dark corner. She had been knuckle deep and Brittany had been halfway to the point of no return when the bouncer came over and gave them an escort out of the club and a lifetime ban. At that point it had been easy to convince Brittany that they needed to get back to their hotel room immediately and the next time they had left the room had been on the way to the airport when they had each dropped a penny into a slot machine on the way out, at Brittany's insistence that one cannot leave Vegas without gambling._

"_Pretty well, yeah." _

_They shared a smile before Brittany continued with her best pout, "Please, Santana. I really want to go."_

And that was how Santana found herself without her suitcase, in a hotel with crappy wifi, and hours of travel separating her from her children.

"Let's go down the pool," Brittany suggested, peeling off her shirt. "The Jacuzzi looked awesome!"

"I'm too tired," Santana whined. "Plus I need to email your mom to tell her that Sugar can't sleep without her blanket. It's almost her bedtime."

"San, you already told her everything. I promise she can take care of them." Brittany knelt on the bed and bounced a little in excitement. "Come on, I wants to get my hot tub on."

Santana smiled at Brittany impression of her, but she still countered with, "I don't have a suit, Britt."

"Good thing I packed two!" Brittany announced with a grin. With far more energy than anyone should possess after a long day of travel, Brittany leapt off the bed and grabbed two suits out of her bag. "You pick."

In one hand Brittany dangled a bright turquoise bikini, in the other one with coral zigzags. As someone who had never purchased a suit that was not red or black since she was thirteen years old, Santana was not thrilled with the options, but she reluctantly grabbed the turquoise one.

"Only for you," Santana grumbled, stripping her clothes and putting on the suit. "My boobs do not fit in this thing." She adjusted the scraps of fabric over her chest, positioning them to minimize the chances of exposing her nipples to the public.

Bright blue eyes leered at her. "I like it."

Santana rolled her eyes and crossed the room to riffle through Brittany's suitcase. Without asking, she found a casual sundress and pulled it on over her suit for the walk down to the pool. Brittany just grabbed a towel from the bathroom and knotted it around her waist, leaving her chest and stomach exposed.

Brittany held her hand as they left the room, and Santana started to find her excitement contagious. Plus she loved showing off her wife and there was something about walking around with Brittany in a swimsuit: when everyone could see exactly how hot Brittany was, but she was the only one allowed to touch. Santana had no idea how anyone could look that good six months after having a baby. Granted, her abs were not as defined as they had been in high school with hours of cheer practice and dancing each day, but her stomach was flat and there was a new roundness to her chest and hips that drove Santana absolutely crazy.

As soon as they stepped outside, Santana could feel the heavy, tropical night air tempting her hair into frizzy curls, and the pool area immediately reminded Santana that they were at a cheesy resort. Low, romantic lighting came from the tiki bar, the Jacuzzi bubbled enticingly, and soft salsa music floated out of a lone speaker.

Two elderly men sat at the bar, the lull of their Spanish conversation reminding Santana of late nights from her childhood, drifting to sleep in her father's arms as the adults continued to talk and laugh around her. The hot tub was occupied only by one other couple, and Santana shucked her dress and sank into the opposite end, sighing as the hot water instantly drove some of the tension from her limbs.

Brittany dropped her towel, but didn't get all the way in, instead sitting on the edge to dip in her toes. When Santana caught the bartender glancing at Brittany one too many times, she gave him her best glare, curling a possessive hand over a pale thigh.

"Santana," Brittany giggled. "Don't be so paranoid."

"It's not paranoid when you look that hot," Santana countered.

Brittany slipped down into the water next to her, sitting close enough that their thighs touched, and hooked a foot around the back of Santana's ankle.

"I'm yours," Brittany assured her in a whisper.

Letting her head fall against Brittany's shoulder, Santana murmured back, "I know."

They stayed close together and the peaceful moment was starting to pull Santana towards sleep until it was interrupted by the twitching of Brittany's leg.

"Relax, babe." Santana soothed a hand done the length of her thigh.

"I feel like dancing," Brittany told her. When she broke out the pout, Santana knew she was in trouble. "Will you dance with me?"

"We're in a hot tub," Santana pointed out.

"So?" Brittany broke out of their embrace with her inexplicable energy. She started rolling her hips to the salsa beat in the air, the movements of her body causing the water to ripple lightly against Santana's chest. "Come dance with me."

Santana couldn't look away from the enticing motions of her wife's body, the swimsuit letting her see how each muscle participated in the dance.

"Brittany," Santana said warningly, bracing herself against giving in.

"Santana," Brittany parroted back, coming so close that it could almost be considered a lap dance.

Squirming, Santana pressed herself closer to the edge of the pool. Brittany was having none of it though, and she grabbed Santana's hands, tugging her upwards until they were both standing. Keeping a tight grip on her hands, Brittany started to lead them through the steps and Santana followed reluctantly, mostly so that she wouldn't be stepped on.

"I know you can move your hips better than this," Brittany commented after a few seconds, pouting at Santana's half-assed participation.

"We're in a hot tub," Santana repeated, glancing over Brittany's shoulder at the other couple. Instead of the looks of annoyance she would have expected, they were smiling indulgently, like they thought Brittany and Santana were the cutest thing they had ever seen.

"It's good practice so we look hot at the wedding." Brittany urged her to spin and Santana complied, rewarded when she spent the next beat pressed back-to-front against a bikini-clad body. "You don't want all your cousins to think motherhood has made you boring."

Rising to the challenge easily, Santana counted with, "I am not boring," as she started to actually dance.

Brittany smirked in satisfaction and Santana knew she had been played. It was hard to care though, not when she had the best dancer she had ever seen moving against her body. Salsa was really just foreplay in disguise, and Santana felt herself start to respond to the way their hips were moving in time, causing the water the move away from their bodies in even ripples. Brittany seemed to particularly be enjoying any move that let her press up against Santana for a moment, before she spun away in the rhythm of their dance.

It was something that Santana could only take for so long. When Brittany pressed them together yet again, Santana held her fast, breaking their rhythm as she whispered urgently, "Brittany, we're going to have a repeat of Vegas if we don't get back to our room right _now._"

Blue eyes widened in surprise, but quickly darkened to an expression that Santana knew intimately. Her wife's arousal made her pulse, and she jerked both of them towards the edge of the hot tub.

They climbed out quickly, the night air warm enough that there was no need to deal with clothing or towels for the short walk back to their room. Santana grabbed all of their belongings and Brittany took the room key. It was a challenge for Santana not to sprint across the hotel grounds to their room. She kept it to a fast walk and it seemed like ages for them to get to the door.

As soon as Brittany managed to get the door opened, she pulled them inside and pushed Santana up against it. Her legs spread wide on either side of Santana's feet, putting them at close to the same height. Brittany's hips pressed against Santana's, effectively trapping her and preventing her from getting any pressure where she needed it.

"Britt," Santana whined, squirming desperately, the dress and towel she held dropping to the floor. But it was futile; there was nothing for her to grind against.

Brittany smirked, entangling their fingers with both hands and ducking her head down, her mouth easily popping Santana's nipple out of the scrap of fabric that had been covering it. Santana squeaked when lips wrapped around it, and her legs weakened. She only remained standing because Brittany shifted her hips to hold her even more securely against the door.

Her arousal was reaching the level of painful as Brittany took her sweet time sucking on first one breast and then the other. It was killing her to have nothing where she needed it, but Brittany was relentless. Even when her hands were released so Brittany could pull off her damp swim top and let it fall to the floor with a plop, she couldn't get any control over the situation. Brittany was stronger and when she decided to dominate, there was usually little that Santana could do.

Taking her hands once again, Brittany moved from her chest to place a sweet kiss on her lips. It didn't match the desire pulsing through her body and Santana surged forward, thrusting her tongue into Brittany's mouth: sloppy, wet, and desperate.

She was panting hard when they broke apart and managed to voice a single request. "Please?"

"Please, what?" Brittany teased, sucking a bruise into the side of Santana's left breast.

"Ugh, fuck." Santana put all her effort into bucking her hips into Brittany, but managed to move only a couple of inches. "Please," she repeated, not even caring that her voice came out as a desperate sob.

"Is this what you want?" Brittany asked, dropping Santana's hand to stroke a single finger lightly across her suit bottoms.

Santana's mouth dropped opened and she chased the pressure that was removed far too soon.

She could hardly squeak out a whine of protest, her free hand falling to Brittany's shoulder and scratching urgently at the skin there. Brittany pressed closer, sucking on Santana's neck in a way that guaranteed she would have a host of hickeys to hide from her family the next day. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care.

Even though Brittany's body was barely covered, the pieces of fabric between them were far too much and Santana clawed at the coral swim top.

"Off," she whimpered, shaking fingers trying to free the knot at the nape of Brittany's neck.

Brittany complied readily, easily freeing herself of both parts before yanking at the fabric at Santana's hips until it also fell to the floor and they were deliciously naked against each other. It made Santana's need even greater and she was rapidly beginning to realize that arousal could actually be physically painful.

To her immense relief, Brittany was nudging her legs apart with a foot. Santana responded immediately, spreading them wide in hopes of finally getting some attention where she needed it.

A light finger dipped into her folds, but it was just a fleeting touch before Brittany withdrew her hand and trapped Santana against the door once again.

"Hmm, wet," Brittany hummed, lifting her finger between them for inspection.

Santana could only stare with rapt attention as the long finger, glistening with her fluids, was sucked deep between pink lips. The moan that Brittany released at the taste made Santana throb, and she was beginning to wonder if she would come without even being touched. She hoped that she wouldn't have to find out because she would probably die if Brittany's didn't touch her soon.

The finger came back out of Brittany's mouth, this time wet with saliva.

"You want to taste?" Brittany asked, her eyes dark and intense.

Santana nodded, opening her mouth obediently. But instead of the finger she expected, her mouth was filled with Brittany's tongue as she was kissed deeply. Her knees weakened and she clung onto Brittany's shoulder in an effort to stay standing. She could indeed taste her musky arousal, mixed in with the sweetness of Brittany's mouth.

Brittany used her wet finger to circle an already hard nipple. Somehow it tightened even further and sure fingers traced the new pebbles on the dusky areola.

Just before desperate tears could fall, Brittany finally started dragging her hand down Santana's body. The progression was still far too slow, but it was deliberate in a way that could not be mistaken.

Of course Brittany took her time, carefully running fingers low on her stomach and up and down the crease of each thigh. Santana squirmed as much as she could in her current position, trying to angle her body so that the fingers would land where she needed them.

"God, Britt, seriously!" she exclaimed when the fingers passed over her once again.

Brittany giggled and it was more sexy than adorable, with the slightest hint of mischief. However, she did respond by applying the lightest of pressures against Santana's swollen clit.

Santana moaned loudly and Brittany gave her clit another teasing flick before abruptly moving down and plunging two fingers deep inside. It was completely unexpected for Santana and when Brittany curled her fingers, she nearly came. A thumb circled her clit with more pressure than before, and she was really going to come this time as long as Brittany would Keep. Doing. That.

She was so close that her legs were shaking when Brittany suddenly withdrew her hand completely. Gasping loudly at the loss, Santana trembled, losing her balance until Brittany stabilized her against the door with firm hands on both of her hips.

"Wh-what?" Santana stuttered, looking up at Brittany in wild confusion. "But I didn't…and you, you…"

Sparkling eyes and a satisfied smirk met her unfinished attempts at speech.

"I wasn't ready for you to come yet," Brittany informed her.

Santana could only gape as Brittany hummed and resumed kissing her, hands sliding up to knead her breasts. She felt so empty without Brittany's hand, but her pulse was still pounding relentlessly between her legs and the kisses and caresses that were being laid on the rest of her body were doing nothing to quell the need.

It was hard to speak with someone's tongue in her mouth, but Santana managed an utterance that most closely resembled Brittany's name. Not that it mattered. Brittany was certainly well-aware of how wound-up Santana was, but she wasn't going to do anything about it until she was ready.

Though it was probably less than three minutes until Brittany returned her hand, it felt like an eternity to Santana.

The touch against her clit was firmer this time and Brittany managed to create friction even though everything in that area was a slippery, wet mess. After a few circles that had Santana shaking once again, Brittany slipped her fingers shallowly inside. Santana moaned loudly, feeling how her muscles were contracting, trying to bring Brittany further inside of her. Brittany complied, pressing hard against Santana's front wall, at the same time rubbing her palm against Santana's clit. It was so, so good. More than enough. Soon it wouldn't even matter if Brittany moved her hand; she was so close to the edge nothing could stop her. Then Brittany shifted to give her clit more direct pressure and it was all over.

Santana nearly cried when she finally came, the desperation that Brittany had built up making it that much better. Her legs gave out and she finished riding out her release collapsed against Brittany, her face pressed against Brittany's damp hair that smelled like a mix of chlorine and floral shampoo.

"I've got you," Brittany promised, holding her tight with one arm as the other continued working between her legs to bring her down gently.

An aftershock shook her violently and Santana whimpered against Brittany's neck. She was light-headed and grounded to reality only by the warm body pressed against her own.

Soothing reassurances continued to be murmured into her hair as Brittany slowly removed her hand. Santana didn't have the energy to protest the loss and she was beginning to wonder if she would ever be able to move again.

That problem was solved when Brittany reached around to the back of her thighs and easily lifted her. Santana wrapped her legs tight around a slim waist, not bothered by the fact that she was clinging her to wife as if her life depended on it. She felt small and safe, and Brittany walked them over to the bed, laying her down like she was the most precious thing in the world before settling mostly on top of her, using her own body to protect Santana from any chill in the air.

With a content sigh, Santana summoned the energy to lift her arms, one wrapping into long blonde hair and the other settling low on a smooth back. She closed her eyes tight and pressed her face in close, breathing slow, deep breathes that flooded her senses with _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany_.

"You okay, honey?" Brittany asked, a chuckle in her voice.

"Mmmhmmm." Santana was not ready for actual words and she certainly had no intention of moving out of the nook between Brittany's neck and shoulder so that she could actually be understood.

"Okay." Santana could actually hear the smile. "You know, there were a couple moments when I thought you actually might kill me."

Santana shook her head as much as she could. Never.

"I think I broke you a little," Brittany observed.

She nodded, mumbling into skin, "I came so hard."

Somehow Brittany understood. "I know you did." The response carried an obvious note of pride.

Humming with content, Santana slipped her hand down to the junction of Brittany's ass and thigh, grabbing there to tug Brittany even closer. The movement brought Brittany's center against Santana's thigh and she groaned at the sensation.

Moving her mouth a fraction of an inch off of Brittany's skin, she murmured, "you're really wet."

"I have a hot wife," Brittany explained. "But you don't have to right now. You're sleepy."

"I want to," Santana informed her, moving her other hand to Brittany's ass and pulling down as she pushed up with her thigh. Brittany released a breathy sigh and Santana smirked. "And clearly you want it."

"Well, duh." Brittany rolled her hips and they fell easily into a rhythm. "I already said you were hot."

Santana smirked, her hands on Brittany's ass to guide her movements and her tight tense to provide friction. Letting Brittany do the work gave Santana the chance to recover more fully from her orgasm and she was more than content to watch the lithe body grind against her leg.

"Ohh, that's good," Brittany moaned after a couple minutes, her movements losing some of their fluidity, signaling that she was getting close.

But Santana didn't want that yet, and she summoned the necessary energy to flip them over so Brittany was on her back. It only worked because she had catch Brittany completely off guard, and Santana hovered above her, her hair falling over her shoulders to curtain Brittany's expression of surprise. She leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.

"Ugh, payback is not nice," Brittany whined once her lips were released.

"It's not payback," Santana assured her. "I want you to come – but I want you to come like this."

And with that, Santana started moving down her wife's perfect body, stopping along the way to drop kisses against her throat, her clavicle, her breasts, her belly, her hips…

Santana felt her body tighten with desire as she got close enough to smell Brittany. It had been so long since she had done this. The end of Brittany's pregnancy had left her bloated and uncomfortable with no interest in sex and since Matthew's birth they had been busy juggling the demands of two children, so when they did manage to have time alone the goal was usually just to get each other off quick so they could fall asleep.

This time though, Santana's goal was only to appreciate the gorgeous woman she had been lucky enough to marry. However, with the way Brittany was squirming and rutting her hips, getting her off would certainly have to be part of that appreciation.

Leaning in close, Santana nudged against Brittany's clit with her nose, breathing her in for a moment before firmly licking across the entire area. She earned a sharp cry that included most of the syllables of her name and Santana could already tell that this would not take long at all. She repeated the broad stroke of her tongue one more time before focusing in on her clit, flicking over it with her tongue and suckling it into her mouth in the way that Brittany liked best.

Too soon for Santana, Brittany was crying out her release, her hips arching up of the bed. Keeping her steady with sure hands, Santana continued her efforts, prolonging Brittany's pleasure.

Once Brittany got too sensitive, Santana moved back up her body, holding herself up until Brittany insistently tugged her down. Settling easily against familiar curves, Santana wrapped her hand into blonde locks and sighed as they lay in content silence for a few minutes.

"San?"

"Yeah, babe?" Santana propped herself on one arm so they could see each other, her other hand not giving up its role of stroking through Brittany's hair.

Instead of a response, she was rolled onto her back and Brittany was straddling her stomach, her eyes once again dilated with arousal. The question was clear and Santana pulled Brittany down to give her response in the form of a deep kiss.

_Yes, always._

This second honeymoon was already shaping up to be just like their first.

Santana wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
